Page 77 of Jack of Hearts
“Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you think that was something I should have known about you?”
He saw the hurt in her eyes, and if he didn’t think she would slap his face, he’d scoop her up off that window ledge and carry her to bed where he’d show her how sorry he was.
“I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to, but I had a job to do. What if you had let something slip to Ramon, even if you didn’t mean to? That would have put you in danger, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.”
“So I was a means to an end? Get close to me so you could find out what I knew about Ramon?”
He dropped to his knees, putting himself at eye level with her. “No. Please don’t think that. Did I ever ask you about him?”
“No. I thought that at first, when you showed up at Ramon’s wearing an FBI vest. But when I tried to remember if you asked me even one question about him, there was nothing. I had to ask, though.”
“So where do we go from here, Mad?” It was probably too much to hope that she’d invite him to climb into her bed. Green eyes searched his, and he kept his gaze on hers, waiting to hear her answer.
“You said I don’t know you. I think we should start over, get to really know each other this time.”
Not what he’d wanted, which was mainly to pick up where they’d left off, but she was calling the shots. “Start over how?”
She put her fingers on the bracelet and twirled it around her wrist. “Figure it out.”
His brain was starting to hurt. “You said it yourself. I’m just a stupid man. Help me out here.”
That earned him a half-second smile. “The bracelet’s beautiful. I love it. All the gifts were lovely, but no more. Good night, Alex.” She closed the window in his face. Again.
What just happened?
“That was your boyfriend on the phone,” Lauren said.
“Alex?” A streak of something hot coursed through her—something that felt a lot like jealousy. Why would he call Lauren?
“The one and only.”
“And?”
Her friend grinned. “Promised I wouldn’t tell you. If you need me, I’ll be in the back. We just got five boxes of books delivered.”
“Get back here!” Madison glared at Lauren’s retreating back. “And stop laughing,” she yelled.
What was Alex up to? When he’d explained why he had acted the way he did, she understood his reasoning. In some ways he was still the man she’d fallen in love with, but in a big way that really counted, he wasn’t. An FBI agent? She was still trying to wrap her head around that one.
When he had showed up at her window, her world had righted itself again. He’d even said he loved her, and she’d almost thrown herself into his arms right then, but she needed him to prove that she was worth fighting for, thus her challenge to him to figure out how to win her back. He was up to something, and she loved nothing more than a good surprise.
“What was all the yelling about?” Angelina said, walking up next to her.
“Just Lauren being her aggravating self. You’re in early today.” She gave her mother a hug, inhaling the familiar scent of gardenias.
“I was restless and decided I’d rather be here than at home with all my thoughts.”
She didn’t like the dark circles under her mother’s eyes. Maybe she wasn’t handling things as well as Madison had thought. “Let’s have dinner tonight, and then go visit daddy.” Even though Angelina visited his grave every Sunday, Madison thought a special trip might be in order. Her mother always returned lighter of spirit after talking to her husband.
“I’d love that.”
“Then it’s a date.” A customer walked up to the counter, and she smiled. “Can I help you find something?”
Three days passed, and Madison hadn’t seen or heard from Alex since he’d last tapped on her window. Maybe he hadn’t meant a word he’d said. It was Saturday night, and Lauren was getting ready to go out with someone she’d met after she’d run into the back of his car at a red light. And wasn’t that so Lauren? Crash into a car and end up with a date with a hot guy.
The only plans Madison had were to drown her misery in the bottom of an ice cream container while she streamed more episodes ofKung Fu. Damn Alex for getting her hooked on Grandfather and Grasshopper. She put on her most comfortable staying-in clothes—baggy harem pants and a Miami Dolphins football shirt.
Determined she wouldn’t think of him all night, she poured a glass of wine to go with her pint of salted caramel and chocolate fudge swirl. “The dinner of champs,” she said, carrying the two items into her bedroom.
